


Friends Won't Love Me Like You

by coupe_de_foudre



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Connor is just wreckless, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hank is a worried dad, He needs to take care of himself, Hospitals, Hurt Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, POV Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Break Up, Relationship(s), Romance, Whump, Worried Markus (Detroit: Become Human), and very protective of his son, but don't worry it doesn't last
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 07:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17300768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coupe_de_foudre/pseuds/coupe_de_foudre
Summary: “Why, may I ask, am I being called about this?” Markus questions, foot tapping nervously on the concrete floor – a human habit that he’s adopted over the past couple of years.“Mr Manfred, you’re currently down as Mr Anderson’s emergency contact.”





	Friends Won't Love Me Like You

**Author's Note:**

> This was an idea suggested by [Blith456](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blith456/pseuds/Blith456) early this morning and it's been stuck in my head all day. I couldn't resist! Thank you so much for the idea, I hope it's to you're liking (I got way too carried away with it, oops).
> 
> Title from Friends by Ed Sheeran.
> 
> Happy reading, snowflakes <3

Markus was sat at his canvas, blank white staring back at him – taunting him. He groaned internally, his eyes flicking from the pots of colour to his side to the colourful paintings that adorned the makeshift studio he was now sat in.

All sorts of paintings surrounded him, all created from his very hands, and yet he couldn’t seem to transfer the smallest amount of colour onto the canvas before him. It was like something inside him was lost? But that didn’t make sense.

To his left, in the farthest corner of the studio, sat a painting that Markus considered one of his favourites. Despite its lack of completion.

It was supposed to be a painting, or rather in interpretation, of the harmony between androids and humans that Markus had been striving for all those years ago during the revolution. A human hand reaching out for a white, plastic one of an android.

_He’d been in the process of adding the last touches of colour and detail to the painting when he’d been interrupted by a wet kiss to his neck and strong arms wrapping around him and pulling him back. Markus had stumbled and the paintbrush in his hand had flicked spots of colour unwantedly across the canvas._

_It had only caused the one behind him to chuckle in his ear deeply, licking a hot trial from his ear to his jaw and swivelling the artist around. Green and blue eyes met brown before their lips had met in a fierce kiss of passion, painting long forgotten about._

_Almost an hour later, Connor had commented how he liked the accidental and abrupt finish to the painting; he said that it expressed the ongoing close of the revolution. Markus had agreed, and decided not to work anymore on that painting._

The painting had some sadder connotations to it now though, Markus realised as he noted how it had now been over 2 and a half years since that moment. It had also been almost 2 and a half years since he and Connor had spoken.

It wasn’t that they fell out, or even necessarily that they no longer had feelings for each other (because Markus definitely never got over Connor, no matter how many times he tried to convince his friends that he had). They had just grown apart over the last few months of their relationship; what, with Markus settling political details after the revolution came to a close and Connor being pulled in all directions at the DPD – as well as taking it upon himself to care for Hank and Sumo.

Nights of uninterrupted touches, needy kisses and long embraces were slowly replaced with lonely nights in the dark awaiting for the other to come home, or wondering if they were even going to be home at all that night. Those moments of comfort and love faded into distant memories that caused Markus to feel uncomfortably overwhelmed.

Despite the pain that thinking of Connor brought Markus, the RK200 still kept tabs on his ex-lover. If only to know that the other was safe. That was how Markus knew that Connor’s hard work at the DPD was finally paying off as he rose in the rank, gaining respect amongst most of his colleagues and appearing in more than a few magazine articles. He also knew that Connor was on his way to becoming a Lieutenant, with the help of his close friend, of course.

Markus sighed, mind full of thoughts of Connor yet again as he rested his head against the empty canvas in front of him. He was getting nowhere with this.

As if saving him from his internal distress, a sudden call rang through Markus’ public network. He answered without checking the ID, voice as composed as he could manage at almost 2am mid-way through a cold spring night.

_“Hello? Is this Mr Manfred?”_ an unfamiliar voice came through, smart and informative.

_“Yes, this is Mr Manfred speaking. How can I be of assistance?”_ Markus put a smile into his tone, trying not to wonder who would be calling him at such an hour if it wasn’t one of his friends.

_“This is one of the nurses at the hospital, the android division. We’re to inform you that Connor Anderson was admitted under our care earlier this evening following an investigation. He’s badly damaged, in critical conditi-”_ The nurse continued listing Connor’s condition but Markus was no longer listening. At the mention of the RK800’s name he’d frozen, but once he heard that Connor was hurt Markus felt his thirium pump still. An icy feeling ran through his wires.

_“Why, may I ask, am I being called about this?”_ Markus questions, foot tapping nervously on the concrete floor – a human habit that he’s adopted over the past couple of years.

_“Mr Manfred, you’re currently down as Mr Anderson’s emergency contact.”_

Many questions ran through his mind, including _‘Why not Hank?’_ but he tried not to ponder too much over them. Connor was smart, if he had wanted Markus removed as his emergency contact he would have done so; he wasn’t the type of android that would somehow forget to do something like that.

_“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”_ Markus transmits over, interrupting the nurse as she spoke about something concerning the hospital visiting rule but not really finding that he minds. He has bigger priorities at the moment, all currently revolving around Connor. The android that Markus thought was no longer going to be a part of his life. Disconnecting from the call, Markus drops his unused paintbrush onto the palette of unused colours that were drying up in the cold air. He shrugs on his jacket, knowing that androids don’t really feel the cold but not wanting to cause attention to himself as he walks the dark streets, and leaves his studio in a hurry.

He ignores the fizzle of hope bubbling up inside him when his thoughts linger on how he’s still Connor’s emergency contact.

Arriving at the hospital, separated now into a human and an android division (purely for less confusion amongst patients and equipment) Markus realises the reason for Hank not being Connor’s emergency contact. The lieutenant is already sat in the waiting room, head held in his hands and looking exhausted.

It makes sense; if Connor was injured during an investigation then of course his partner would follow him to the hospital. However, it still didn’t explain why Markus was here and not one of Connor’s friends.

Sensing a new presence, Hank raised his head and caught sight of Markus stepping further into the room. Only two other people were in there – an old woman and another android, both looking worried for their loved ones and not paying Markus or Hank any attention.

Fury clouded Hank’s eyes as he stood up, storming over to Markus. Markus tensed. Not that he’d expected the lieutenant to greet him with welcoming arms. However, even the slight defensive attitude that entered Markus’ system didn’t overcome his worry for Connor, mind running wild with awful scenarios and pump regulator going at incredible speeds.

“What the fu-”

Markus held a calm hand up to stop the lieutenant in his tracks, but unfortunately his voice failed him and the subtle static that came through showed his concern more than the expression on his face managed to do. “How is he? Is he stable? What happened?” The string of questions fell from his lips before he even had a chance to process them fully.

Hank regarded him with surprise, which was soon replaced by a suspicious squint of his eyes. The older human took a moment to think before sighing heavily and letting his shoulder sag. He shook his head, “They won’t let me see him. I’ve been sat here for almost 2 fucking hours.”

Sympathy ran through Markus’ system and he reached a comforting hand out to pat the man’s shoulder just as a nurse stepped into the waiting room. “Mr Manfred?” she called, and Markus nodded in her direction. The android made a motion for him to follow her and so, with a lingering squeeze of Hank’s shoulder and a small reassuring smile, he took a step back.

“I promise I’ll come and tell you everything once I’m back.” Markus says (surprised at the calm tone that now takes over his voice), and Hank nods at him, gratefully. Markus smiles to himself, knowing that despite their differences they both cared for Connor deeply.

The walk to the small room that Connor was held in was agony, and Markus found his pre-constructive system going crazy to the point in which it began to bring him pain. Squeezing his eyes shut, he willed it to stop.

The nurse opened a door and offered him a smile, allowing him to step into the room tucked away at the end of the long, sterile corridor before closing the door on him. Leaving him alone.

Well, he wasn’t alone because Connor was here too. But Connor was hardly stable, laid out on a bed with crisp white sheets covering his body from the waist down, wires and machines connected to him in all different places and an agonising _beep_ ringing through the tense air every other second.

Markus notes how the detective’s synthetic skin seems to look paler, but maybe that’s just a result of the harsh blinding lights that are coming from above his bed. His eyes are closed and, if it wasn’t for the very shallow movements of his chest, Markus would be fearing the worst. He’s definitely thinner than Markus remembers, the feeling of strong arms and thick thighs dashing by his memory as he looks down on the limp, fragile vulnerability that Connor has become.

Bruises paint his skin in all colours of purple and blue and green, accompanied by tears and cuts with thirium slowly dripping out. A new dent in his right shoulder is just noticeable.

Dried thirium coats the corner of his mouth, as though he’d been spitting the thick blue liquid out in a hast.

Markus sighs, standing by Connor’s bedside in a heartbeat.

Taking the injured detective’s limp hand in his own, Markus slowly lowers himself to perch on the edge of the bed. Connor still makes no move to show any consciousness and maybe that’s the reason that Markus suddenly finds hot tears cascading down his face, overcome with emotions to the point that his system needs an emergency release before he causes permanent damage to himself.

“You’re crying.” a vaguely familiar voice scratches out amongst waves of static.

Markus jumps, grip on Connor’s hand tightening when he finds a pair of warm brown eyes frowning up at him through long lashes. He laughs gently at the typical expected sarcasm from the other android, despite his critical state, and brings Connor’s hand up to his lips without thinking.

“Never do that again, you idiot. I was actually scared about you for a moment there.” Markus smiles, lips brushing Connor’s bruised knuckles as he speaks. He tries to add humour into his voice to hide the strong feelings radiating towards Connor.

“Got it.” Connor mumbles, exhaustion evident in his voice as he allows his eyelids to slip closed again. A small smile is gracing his lips now though and it eases the tension in Markus’ system.

Without speaking another word, Markus carefully settles himself down to lie against Connor’s side. The other doesn’t make a move to protest and so Markus takes that as a good sign.

He knows they haven’t spoken in ages and he knows that there will need to be a long discussion later about all of this, but right now all Markus wants to do is lie with Connor and breathe him in.

Connor peaks over at Markus through his lashes, raising an eyebrow with the hint of a smirk forming over his lips. His hand is still clutched in Markus’, resting between their bodies.

“I’ve missed you…” Markus whispered, choking on static as he fought back another flood of tears.

Connor smiled at him, warm and understanding. “I know. I’m sorry.” He squeezed Markus’ fingers, thumb brushing over his skin in a familiar gesture.

Markus sighed, closing his eyes. “It’s not your fault.”

“I didn’t do anything to stop it though.” Markus knew Connor was right; they were both to blame for what happened between them. They could have so easily stopped it, brought each other back together before it was too late, but they’d been so deeply in denial that they allowed what was happening to wash over them.

Connor is watching the confliction dance over Markus’ face, his breathing quiet and warm on his skin. Silently, he brings his free hand up to the gap between their face, the tip of his pointer finger beginning to trace invisible lines as he dotted up the freckles that coated Markus’ skin. Markus watches in quiet curiosity, taking in the concentration on Connor’s face as his eyes don’t leave Markus freckles, darting from one small dot to another.

He doesn’t even hesitate, doesn’t rethink it, as he follows the urgent task that pops up. Leaning in, he closes the small gap between his lips and Connor’s in a bittersweet kiss that tasted of tears and thirium. Markus couldn’t care less, smiling when Connor presses impossibly closer to him, their bodies touching at every limb due to the limited space on the single bed.

Markus licks into Connor’s mouth, chuckling as their noses bump carelessly together. Connor isn’t kissing back with as much force as he would normally, restrained by wires and the warning signs of self-reparation, but Markus can feel his love as it transfers to him through the connection between their joined fingertips that must have opened during the kiss. That was how Markus knew he was comfortable around Connor; he’d somehow accepted a connection with him without realising it. With others, it felt foreign and often pained him – he couldn’t explain why.

Throwing a protective arm around Connor’s waist, Markus pulls his lips away. “Fuck, I’m never letting you go again.” He whispered onto Connor’s lips.

Connor smiled, tilting his head to press a chaste kiss to Markus’ forehead. Another familiar gesture that Markus hadn’t realised he’d missed so dearly. “Don’t worry, I won’t be going anywhere.”

Bringing Connor’s mouth back to his, lips tainted blue, Markus decided that Hank could wait a bit longer; they had lost years to make up for.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/constructive criticism/prompts always welcomed :)
> 
> Love you guys x


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